NTWF Mafia II: The Idyllic Village of Wafflenet

[Avery]

“Say, you wouldn’t happen to have SEEN CHRYSANTHEMUM or anything lately, HAVE YOU? He’s the WOLF WHO ISN’T PRIMROSE WHO I’VE RECENTLY BROUGHT INTO TOWN. Also, DO YOU HAPPEN TO KNOW WHERE DOVE MIGHT BE? Since TRACY’S GONE WHO-KNOWS-WHERE, WE SHOULD PROBABLY GET TOGETHER TO PLAN WHAT WE SHOULD DO ABOUT THE MAFIA SITUATION. OH, AND ALSO THAT ERR BEAR DUDE. WE SHOULD PROBABLY FIGURE OUT WHAT TO DO ABOUT THAT.”

Yelly's yelling like, totes made Brit's ears hurt, but like, fortunately (unfortunately?) Brit didn't have any time to reply before the town square turned into a mass of "LET'S LIKE, EXECUTE MORE PEOPLE!" Argh! Brit wanted to flee back inside the diner but like, thought that might look super totes suspicious, so she stayed put and just watched as the crazy townspeople strung up Don Dan. And Dan's neck was only just snapped when into the town centre marched that Monica chick and some new cronies, and like, everything went NUTS!

Like, before she knew it, Brit had been herded into Nets, No Waffles, and was barricaded with the whole of the town inside. She was sooo not comfortable with this! Like. She'd never even been in the fishing shop before because it smelled like fish and stuff. Eww! In the back corner, Brit stared down mortified at the bucket of live bait that Goldie Fisher sold. Little gross worms wriggled about; Snuggles watched them with like, great interest from Britknee's purse.

"Eeww, no!" she said sternly to him. "Like, don't you dare jump out and hunt those!"

There was like, also a tank of live bait minnows on the back wall, and after stepping away from the bucket of worms, Brit watched the little fishes swim around. At least like, if they were trapped in here forever, they could eat the fish or something. Brit didn't like fish but like, better than starving or something.

From her side, Britknee heard a low growl... and turned to find Primrose. The wolf. Primrose was also staring at the tank of fishes, watching them with the interest of a scary vicious predator. Um! Seriously! What was Yelly thinking! Bringing Prim into the attic last night had been bad enough but at least that had been necessary to avoid like, the wolf drowning. But now!? WHY WAS PRIMROSE IN THE SHOP NOW!? Mortified, Brit watched as like, Primrose got bored with the fishies and noticed the bucket of worms... which she then snuck her snoot into and began munching. The wriggly critters made wet squishing noises as Prim chewed them. Brit almost barfed!

"Control the beast!" Brit shrilled at Yelly. "Like, seriously!"

[Robyn]

((GLQ & I collaborated on this post so this one is special you guys and was totally not just a means of getting both Dove and Julie down to where the action is))

Dove jumped at the sound before she remembered that ghosts couldn't conceivably knock on doors. (He'd be more likely to float in unannounced, silently...she shook the abhorrent thought out of her head. She guessed she'd just cross that rickety bridge once she came to it.) Also, that was a voice at the door, which wasn't to be expected from him. Julie's, in fact. What could she possibly want? Oh, that's right; she'd screamed. Probably not the best course of action these days, with everyone fearing for their lives and such. But was it the best idea to open her door for just anybody, under these circumstances?

"If anything goes down, back me up, okay?" Dove said to Rocky. She knew he probably couldn't do much, but the moral support was there, at least.

With a nod towards her ghostly houseguest, Dove cautiously opened the door to greet the messenger, peeking through the crack in the door.

"Uh, hi," Dove said, "Sorry. I'm fine. Didn't mean to be loud, I just-- there was a....spider. A bird-eating spider. Real big. I'm fine."

Julie let out a sigh of relief when she saw Dove's face appear through the crack in the door. She seemed to be alright, even if she didn't look to be at her best right now, from what she could see. As much as Julie wanted a better look, however, she couldn't blame her for not opening the door entirely, even for her.

Julie raised a confused eyebrow at Dove's response. "A bird-eating spider? Around here?" She paused. She didn't believe her, but she wasn't sure if it was right for her to press for details. "I could hear you all the way from Waffles, No Nets. I thought something had happened..."

"That just tells you how much I hate spiders!" Dove replied, a little too quickly. She actually found spiders to be quite fascinating, but she was a bad liar and wanted to move this along. "I'm sorry. I honestly didn't know I'd been that loud. It was just...very shocking."

A churning grew in her stomach. Every time she let her mind wander, it shifted back to the blood streaked across the glass. Dove stared at the ground, unable to get it out of her mind. How could she deal with the death of someone she'd known her whole life, even if it WAS someone she'd hated?

Dove sighed. "Again, I'm sorry, Merlot-san. My mind is elsewhere this evening."

She was about to politely bid the minstrel a good night and shut the door in her face when they both heard a commotion growing from the center of town, not too far away from Dove's place.

Julie's face contorted into a frown of worry. Now she was definitely sure that there was something else that was bothering her, but she wasn't being forward in telling her what. Then again, perhaps it really was none of her business. She let out a nod.

"It's all right. I--"

It was then that she heard the commotion going on from the center of town, and she turned her head towards the noise. She couldn't completely make out what was being said, but it sounded angry.

"What's going on over there?" Julie asked tentatively, even though a part of her already knew the answer. The shouts were growing violent, and after too long, shouts of "HANG HIM! HANG HIM! KILL THE MAN!" reverberated through the square. Dove, wary-eyed, opened the door all the way, beckoning Merlot-san to follow.

"We have to see who it is," Dove whispered, white as a sheet. She was upset with the town for instigating yet another vigilante execution, but she was even more upset with herself for compulsively /having/ to go see who was getting strung up. Although, there weren't that many prominent men left in the town, were there? Her insides felt knotted as she walked out, the messenger following close behind.

Don Dan hung. Dove looked on grimly, the brunt of her suspicions now dead weight dangling before her. Mafia or not, it was another person dead. It was beginning to get old, and Dove was troubled by how desensitized she was becoming to all of these murders. After a while, Merlot-san (who was looking just as pale and disturbed by this turn of events, if not more so) murmured something behind her.

"What's that, Merlo-- wh- Who are they?!" Dove exclaimed, pointing at the sea of agents pouring into the square. Things from there happened quickly. The barricade, the hostage, the standoff; everyone was settling in for what looked to be the final battle, both against these inspectors AND against the last of the traitors in Wafflenet.

Dove glanced at each of her remaining neighbors. Blaze-san. Merlot-san. Chaetura-san. Birch-sensei. (But not Britknee-chan; Britknee-chan was far too kawaii for any of this murder business.) Who was responsible for all of this?

She supposed the answer would reveal itself soon enough.

[Gelquie]

Julie stood near the doors of Nets, No Waffles, staring at the people who had come in with her. She barely knew what was going on when they decided to hang Don Dan, and then quite soon after that, the inspector's assistant had returned with more people, looking ready to arrest everyone in the town. So now she was barricaded in with everyone else in the town. Everyone else, that is, including the Mafia. And meanwhile outside, inspectors were banging on the doors outside. Was there any place in town that was truly safe now?

She looked to the people who were in there with her. There was Tanya, Sparky, Mr. Bell, and then there was Blaze, Tracy, Birch, Dove, and Britknee. To think that any of them could have helped cause the murders made her stomach churn. She remembered a time where it was so peaceful here, where she could play her mandolin all day without worrying about who might die, or having to worry at all. She remembered when she was happy here. How much longer would this go on?

Then a thought struck Julie. There was someone missing. Blaze, Tracy, Birch, Dove, Britknee... Osilon. Was he still out there? Had he taken to the rooftops to escape? But most of all, was he safe?

Was... Was he still alive?

"Osilon," she started quietly. "He's not in here with us. Where is he...?"

[Mostly Harmless (flufflepuff)]

*Sneaks the ipod in the wee hours of the morning*))

Fluffle tilted her head. Dove seemed all right. It turned out she was only afraid of a spider that somehow had the ability to eat birds. Fluffle nodded, but didn't ever hear about bird eating spiders. She supposed one could and often does learn something new every day.

Asking Dove for sewing assistance didn't seem like a good idea. She knew from personal experience how traumatic spiders could be. Fluffle paused in her wondering and snorted. Death wasn't considered as traumatic as spiders? Fluffle really was a silly pony like the alicorn had said!

And then she heard it.

A noise that had caused her to move from her pony home permanently. A noise that made Fluffle tremble even though she knew she was safe from anything of the sort. A noise that struck fear into her more than seeing Don Dan dangling from the-- Don Dan?!

Stampede.[/b]

Fluffle floated to Dove's roof. Osilon clutched his goggles and flew away, definitely up to something. The stampede wasn't anything scary like cows or zebras or angry ponies. They were...humans. Humans bent on attacking the already beleaguered town of Wafflenet. That looked like Monica at the front--that troublemaker!

Fluffle felt a strange desire creep up on her once more. She burned, ached to do something that would at least bother these intruders mildly. It was in her ghostly DNA--she craved mischief...no. She would not be won over by that urge again!


...

Okay, perhaps a cow or two, instead of the entire herd. But that would be IT!

Hurry. Wrap it up, please. I am in trouble.

It was that voice again. Fluffle leaped, taking advantage of not being fully affected by gravity, over to the pasture once more. The cows seemed a mite less afraid of her this time. They asked what it was she wanted, in their own language.

Fluffle raspberried her plan--to carry off at least one of the invaders, circle them around the town, buck, and leave them in a daze. It would be great fun!

The cows shook their heads. They were even more spineless now that the...no. A cat meowfia?! Fluffle would deal with the cats later. Surely they were afraid of ghosts. She giggled. But, there was some convincing to do for now.

Fluffle wasn't acting like the spineless, selfish cow. She WAS the spineless, selfish cow!

Fluffle, in control of a cow's body, jumped on top of another cow, pinning her. "Do we have a deal?" She asked in raspberry, exiting the cow.

The cows nodded, and, under instruction of Fluffle, headed over to Nets, No Waffles to terrorize the invaders...

[Lizica]

(Sorry for the length of this!
... <_< ... >_> ...Okay, maybe I'm not very sorry for writing it, but I'm REALLY, REALLY, EXTREMELY sorry if you're going to read it. I should make a TL;DR post.)

He had come on an evening train. Before even setting foot down onto the platform, however, first he had readjusted his straw hat, and his wig, and his beard, and his sunglasses, and his bandana around his neck, and then second he had slowly put his head out the train door, glancing both ways furtively.

Coast was clear. He was early.

He readjusted his poncho, and his boots, and his gloves, and his bullet-proof vest. Checking his reflection in the train window, he shifted his sunglasses and his beard again. Then finally, with a deep, halting breath, he stepped down onto the platform. The train whistled away with a screech, leaving him alone.

He looked both ways outside the train station. Coast was clear.

He made his way down the lonely road towards Wafflenet. Coast was clear.

He was now stepping over garbage and pulpy debris of houses. That storm had really hit the town hard. But at least the coast was clear.

He was approaching the outskirts of town now. He readjusted his neck bandana and his straw hat, looking to both sides and behind him. But at least the coast was still--

The soggy debris below him suddenly gave way with a sickening squashing sound. He gave a short yelp when he hit the bottom of the pit, and he swore, trying to disentangle himself from muddy netting, flooded garbage, and some dead leaves. What kind of sick, twisted, demented soul would dig a hole right in the middle of the @$%#& road?!

A grinning face appeared over the edge of the hole.

"Aw, sonofa--" he began.

The grin dissolved into a glower.

"You!" Tracy shrieked, shooting a pointed finger at him. "You wrecked my trap? That was meant for the other inspectors--the competent ones!"

"I don't have time for your shenanigans, Chaetura!" Inspector Jenkins cried, attempting to scale the walls of dirt. He failed fairly quickly; his foot was still stuck in the netting. "I don't have time for your nonsense!" he said again, shaking it off. "I'm undercover!"

"Is that what you call that?" Tracy asked, using her shovel to gesture at his attire. "You look like the invisible man, but colorblind. Being a fashion train wreck is no way to be inconspicuous! I can make you a hat, then you'd blend in perfectly--"

"You are in no position to talk, Chaetura, and I will thank you to stay silent. No one will recognize me in this outfit."

"Then fix your wig, Jenkins."

"Don't address a commanding officer that way!"

"You were only a ditzy, bumbling official, but maybe if you'd stayed in town, this wouldn't have--"

"SHUT UP, CHAETURA. THAT'S AN ORDER."

"This wouldn't have happened if you weren't such a half-witted coward and had stayed!" Tracy yelled.

"BE QUIET, CHAETURA, I'M UNDERCOVER, AND IF YOU HAD ANY REAL RESPECT FOR HUMANITY, YOU'D RESPECT MY WISHES! ARE YOU GOING TO GET ME OUT OF THIS HOLE OR NOT?"

Begrudgingly, scornfully, Tracy extended her shovel into the hole and helped the old town detective out. She should have been elated that he had finally come back; she should have been relieved that this obtuse fool had returned to finally set things right; but instead she was just furious. Maybe if he had returned immediately after he heard about Wafflenet's situation, she wouldn't be so upset. Maybe if he hadn't uselessly trashed her latest plan to help the town, she wouldn't be so upset. Maybe if he had had the decency to show up at least pretending to be capable for once, she wouldn't be so upset.

But nope.

"Well, the aliens won't be swayed, but you're going to try to talk to the townspeople," she said, more as a command than as a question.

He wiped some mud from his hideous argyle poncho and stared at her with a clouded brow. "I'm undercover," he said pointedly, as if she didn't know what that word meant, and he rose to his full height. Outside of the hole, he was taller than Tracy. "And I'll thank you to keep your lunatic ideas to yourself from this point onwards unless you want me to finally commit you this time--"

Tracy hit him in the gut with the shovel's blunt handle.

"I'm not the one you should have committed!" she cried. "You're the detective! You should have figured this town out! It's your job! And if you'd stayed, the town wouldn't be like this at all!"

Clutching his stomach, Inspector Jenkins hobbled down the road into town, deciding it was better not to have to reason with the mentally-unsound conspiracy theorist. He could hear a crowd in the distance, where surely he'd be able to find a more agreeable person to deal with. Someone definitively sane and definitively discreet needed to know that swarms of government agents would soon be descending upon Wafflenet.

"You're going to talk to the townspeople!" Tracy cried, catching up to him. "They wouldn't listen to that Bear bureaucrat, but that's because he was crazy and chained us up, but they'll listen to you, even if you are a bumbling idiot."

They were getting closer to the town square now.

"Chaetura, I don't have time for you right now, and will you turn off your blasted radio? You're basically announcing my presence, and I need to--"

He broke off. Silhouetted by the moon, gallows stood in the middle of the town square, the town square that had been so lovely when he had left town. Ginz Mahb's new husband fell through the trapdoor, and the townspeople--some were cheering.

That DOES it, he thought. There are NO MORE sane people left in Wafflenet, and I should never have come back at all. I've got to get out of here while I can--

He immediately panned the scene for an escape route, but as if in response to his realization of the town's insanity, sudden shrieks went up from the crowd, and panic engulfed the crowd.

"It's that Monica girl! And-- and-- oh my! She's brought reinforcements! Dozens of them!"

"But I haven't rebuilt the trap!" Tracy protested. If the moronic old town detective hadn't distracted her, she might have had a chance to fix it and stop them--

"We must barricade. Quick someone, go grab Err Bear. Drag him into my store. Then we'll lock him, and ourselves, inside. Threaten to kill him if they dare break down the door."

The churning crowd thrust them into the tackle shop. Government goons filled the square and kicked at the door ferociously. Those crafty aliens, turning even the rest of mankind against the remaining few! How could they retaliate now? They needed to band together and--

Tracy caught the old detective trying to find a back door, and she tried to tear off his straw hat and wig with a scowl.

"Solidarity, Jenkins," she said with a glower.

"Stop that! They've all gone mad! You're a horrible influence--"

"They're only acting this way because you ran off like a brainless wimp and because aliens have been messing with--"

"There are NO ALIENS hunting this town, Chaetura, and if you would OPEN YOUR BLOODY EYES and STOP trying to--"

Tracy brandished the shovel again, but pointed it at him, rather than hitting him with it. "LOOK, everyone! It's Insp--"

Jenkins smacked a hand over her mouth and tried to hide her behind the tank of live bait minnows. ("NOTHING TO SEE HERE, FOLKS~!" he announced in a false, low voice, and to Tracy: "shut up, Chaetura, so help me") Tracy punched him with the shovel handle again, and free once more, they started arguing.

[Terra]

Okay, thank GOD that guy is dead, SERIOUSLY, thought Blaze, after Don Dan Maphia was executed.

She was slightly less happy, however, about the whole situation with the law enforcement officers barging in and everyone deciding to barricade themselves in Nets, No Waffles, and now being trapped with all these townspeople and probably a killer and ANNABEL, of ALL PEOPLE, was in there TOO, and she had to LOOK at her PRETTY LITTLE FACE and her PRETTY LITTLE CURLY RED HAIR and her PRETTY LITTLE SKIRT AND HEELS AND ARGHHH.

At least she had Primrose.

Speaking of which, Primrose had started eating the worms in a bucket (yeah, she was probably hungry) and Britknee was yelling about it.

"Control the beast!" Brit shrilled at Yelly. "Like, seriously!"

“I DON’T SEE WHAT SHE’S DOING WRONG,” said Blaze. “And DON’T CALL HER A BEAST, IT’S DEROGATORY.”

“Well, I THINK SHE HAS A POINT!” screeched Annabel, who’d approached behind her. “WHAT WERE YOU THINKING, BRINGING A WOLF IN HERE?! I THOUGHT YOU WERE BAD IN HIGH SCHOOL!”

“WHAT WAS I SUPPOSED TO DO, LEAVE HER OUT THERE ALONE?” Blaze shouted. “AND SHE’S FAR BETTER COMPANY THAN ANYONE ELSE IN HERE, ANYWAY. IF SHE WEREN’T HERE I’D GO CRAZY!”

Julie spoke up before Blaze could add AT THE SIGHT OF YOUR FACE to that sentence.

"Osilon," she started quietly. "He's not in here with us. Where is he...?"

Blaze turned on her heel and stared at Julie, wide-eyed.

“He’s dead,” she said. “I’m surprised you didn’t know that. I mean, unless you’re pretending.... But you wouldn’t do that, would you?”

She narrowed her eyes. “You’re the messenger of this town and yet you didn’t see that bird dude - uh, Osilon’s body or hear anything about him all day. How likely is that?”

But Blaze was quickly cut off from her questioning -

AWOOOOOOOOOO

Primrose had finished eating the worms, and had started howling at the top of her lungs in the middle of the room.

Blaze looked at her, perplexed. “Primrose, what’s going on?”

What she didn’t know was that outside, Chrysanthemum was listening intently to the howl. He howled back, just loudly enough for Primrose to hear, and then raced back toward Blaze’s farm. He had a message to carry to the rest of the pack. An extremely important message...

[Avery]

“I DON’T SEE WHAT SHE’S DOING WRONG. And DON’T CALL HER A BEAST, IT’S DEROGATORY.”

"Um, like I don't know what derogatory means, but that is so totes a beast and you KNOW it!" Britknee yelled back, still almost like, throwing up cos Primrose was still slurping down the wiggly-iggly-yucky worms. She added, "Like, keep it away from me, Blaze! I'm going to the other side of the store and don't you like, let that wolf follow me!"

And Britknee stomped away, just in time for Blaze to start screaming at her sister, Annabel. Who was like, also Yelly. Gawsh, what was it with that family!? Plus, Yelly also then got into one of her super annoying accusatory modes and was like, snapping at poor Julie who was like, sooo disoriented, the poor chick hadn't even heard about Osilon! Ohemgee, that was like, sooo sad, and Blaze totes being mean to Julie, going all: "You’re the messenger of this town and yet you didn’t see that bird dude - uh, Osilon’s body or hear anything about him all day. How likely is that?”

"That is way unkewl, Blaze!" Britknee yelled from her new place at the other side of the store. "You like, need to stop accusing people, gawsh! You come across as soooo paranoid!"

But before Blaze could respond, Primrose let out an ear-splitting howl. Ouch! Britknee like, clapped her hands over her ears in shock.

"Am I like, the only one who thinks we should kick the wolf out!?" she asked. She turned towards Tracy, who was like, half-hidden behind the minnow tank and was holding a shovel for some reason and was arguing with some weird guy Britknee didn't know. "Alien lady!" Britknee called sweetly. "Like, don't you think we should kick that wolf out!?" When Tracy didn't instantly reply, Brit added darkly, "Because like, I'm totes convinced she might be working for the aliens, you know. The aliens, Tracy!"

[Tiger]

Mick was groggy from a night spent hunting for Diana – and all for nothing, as he found out the next morning that Osilion had been killed. How was he always in the wrong place at the wrong time? Surely if he actually caught the mafiosos in action, the Memory Bureau or whatever wouldn’t have time to wipe his memory before he warned the town? Metastophelous was oddly silent on this point, and Mick started to wonder if it was his snarky “advisor”’s fault that he wasn’t ending up anywhere helpful.

He was far from the gallows when the hanging happened, but Mick knew almost instantly who it was – more of those slap-upside-the-head memories crashed back into his consciousness. Don Dan referring to a mafioso from one of his old gangs, Don Dan explaining his ruse of a marriage with a smirk, but always able to twist his expression into complete innocence, Don Dan made hazy by the smoke of a gun…

The ghost hissed a word inappropriate for the forum and floated down to more sheltered ground. “…Okay. I guess that one I should’ve seen coming.”

“I’ll say. Took the Wafflenetters long enough to figure it out.”

Mick racked his head and his foggy memories for the fourth and final mafia member, thinking that the block might be weaker after this fresh return. No such luck; some of his conversations with Diana and Don Dan were completely restored, but most memories maintained one blurred figure. Any mention of a name or even a gender was completely obscured, even in memories where he or she wasn’t present.

“Is the point of giving me my memories back just to frustrate me?”

“It wouldn’t be purgatory without a little torture, kid.”

“Maybe I need to just forget about finding Diana.”

“Well, that sounds abysmally stupid. I still need info on her, kid. Our Completely Legal Department of Borrowing Data With Full Intention of Returning it to its Point of Origin is still having trouble getting into those afterlife records.”

“Well, everybody you’ve told me to avoid’s run into me so far, so maybe everyone I’m looking for isn’t going to show up until I stop looking,” Mick pointed out.

Meta started to reply, but suddenly fell silent. “I hate to say it…but yeah. That seems to be the way this role- whole, this whole affair is going. Question is, what’re you gonna do in the meantime? I think your girlfriend wandered off.”

Though Mick’s first instinct was to correct Meta, he found himself unsure he could actually say the words, “Fluffle’s not my girlfriend.” This was getting weird, having…well, feelings, he guessed, for a pony.

Before Metastophelous could taunt Mick – probably by his usual means of pointing out that Mick was a murderer and a coward to boot – the train whistle cut across the town. “No way that’s here already!” Meta muttered. “…Oh. Timeskip. Sloppily-executed as usual, Tiger.”

“Are you talking to another…uhm, parolee?” Mick demanded.

Meta snorted. “Trust me, she’s got enough people prattling in her head without my help. Although I bug her from time to time, ‘cause why not? Speaking of why not, why are you not hauling tail after Monica and her cronies?”

Mick didn’t think asking who Monica was or what manner of cronies she had with her was going to be very productive; instead, he swept into the sky, searching for the train. It was peeling out of the station – very odd, since Mick had flown over the tracks not long ago and definitely hadn’t seen a train.

“Yeah, temporal effects of being too lazy to write a post earlier. Don’t think too much about it, kid, you don’t have the scope or quite frankly the intelligence to wrap your head around it. Looks like the action’s at…Nets, No Waffles. Wow. Well, head that-a-way, my country bumpkin. Yee-haw!”

Mick scowled, but headed for the street where Waffles, No Nets and Nets, No Waffles resided. The streets seemed to blur abnormally fast, and quite suddenly, there was a crowd of ambiguously-described lawmen and women assaulting the fish shop. Mick tensed, despite knowing by now that the living couldn’t see him. That was a lot of people, and not a lot between them and the townsfolk he glimpsed through the barricaded windows.

“Meta, do I any sort of ghost bolt powers?”

“Well, shockingly, my little mafioso, you’re not cleared for ectoplasmic projectiles!”

“Shoot.”

“Uh, no, there will be no shooting, Angelo, that’s the point. A travesty, I know, not handing a murderer weapons!”

“Well, their barricade’s not gonna hold…” Mick looked around; the street was full of beams and bricks. Picking them up would take too long...unless… His eyes drifted toward Waffles, No Nets. The diner had taken a beating, and it shouldn’t be much work to pry off those familiar boards. His stomach should have squeezed at the thought of tearing up the restaurant…but the townspeople needed something more solid than waffles right now.

Mick swooped to a loose slat of wood that swung in front of the door in high winds; a single moment of concentration was all the ghost needed to seize the beam. His nonexistent muscles strained against a stubborn nail, but then the plank came free. As Mick swept back toward Nets, No Waffles, he saw a flock of owls descending from the sky. …Osi’s work?

“Meta – can I make objects go-through-able?”

“You did not just describe intangibility as ‘go-through-able’!”

“Meta!”

A few swift taps, and Metastophelous replied, “Contrivance Commission says yes. Extend your ghostly essence or something.”

Mick hoisted the board up, and tried, for lack of any better metaphor, to imagine he was syrup and the board was an undecorated waffle. To his surprise, there was a trickling feeling, almost like pins and needles spreading down from his shoulders and out through his fingers and into the beam…the wood suddenly turned blue and semi-transparent. Mick dove down into the fish shop to an assault of noise, familiar voices he realized with a pang that he missed, dropped the plank in the center of the room where it became solid almost at once, and shot back out the roof.

“They’re gonna need more than that, Micky,” Metastophelous said. “So don’t start feeling all redeemed just yet.”

Mick nodded and shot back toward the diner to pry another board off the building.

[Celestial]

Fluffle had been no help. Diana really did not know what she expected from the foolish pony, a pony who did not even show a hint of education considering her manner of speaking. Nevertheless, she followed her to the roof of the diner. All for nothing as the pony blew a raspberry and disappeared. At least Diana got her pen back, which she promptly stuffed into her jacket pocket, once she had cleaned the fluff off it. From the rooftop, she scanned the town for any sign of Mick. At this point, the town was irrelevant. Yes, she did still want revenge on them and nobody seemed to be drinking the water that she had poisoned but they could all wait. Her research was a more pressing matter but she had been observing and carefully studying the town as it went about its business, namely the business of going insane. Her notebook was almost running out, so stuffed full it was of information that she could use to supplement the archival evidence of the main argument of her thesis. The sources would be her proof, her observations would be what her theory is based on.

Mick, however, was different. Diana had enjoyed very few things in life and they were academia, coffee and cigarettes. But being part of the mafia, she had found a completely new, vicious side to herself that she embraced quite happily. She had always felt herself superior to the uneducated, uncritical masses but being part of the mafia took that to a new level. It gave her an active role in what happened and she relished it. That and perhaps she had always been a sociopath for all her life and the mafia had simply given her that release that she needed. That too she was willing to consider as a possibility. But all this was irrelevant to the subject of Mick.

To put simply, something she hated doing, Mick was a traitor. He wanted out and, as godmother, Diana wanted to remind him that it was not that simple. Plus, the naive idiot would be so much fun to taunt.

From her rooftop vantage point, however, Diana witnesses Don Dan being hung. She bowed her head for a brief moment as another one of her colleagues died at the hands of the townspeople. She hoped that the last one would hide better. No, she knew that they would. For how much they annoyed her, Diana had faith in them. They saw eye to eye. As for Don Dan, a faint smile spread her across Diana's face. Perhaps he would care to join her in becoming a revenant and terrorising this tiny town. A ghostly mafia could be much more dangerous than a real one. It would take more than a hanging to get rid of them.

And then the lawmen descended onto the town, making things even more chaotic than before. The townspeople barricaded themselves against them rather than just being sensible and handing over the inspector. Their madness had clearly infected every part of their lives, not just their morality. It was like this in Netwaffle too, according to every offcial report she had read. But now, the townspeople were in the fishing shop, an odd place to hide considering the many other places in town which would have offered better protection and more supplies to hold out against the invading law enforcement. But, as Diana had noted many times, the townspeople were not known for their sanity.

Suddenly, who should appear but Mick? Diana almost burst out laughing as he took a plank and brought it to the barricade, like a little kid would bring their parent a drawing they did that they were so proud of, even, if that drawing was absolute trash. She leapt down from the rooftop and swept past the law enforcement, giving them a bad feeling as she did. For now, a bad feeling was all she would give. Diana hovered closed to Mick as he approached the diner and tapped him on the shoulder, glowing bright red as she did so.

"Hello, good to see you again," she grinned like a predator that had caught its prey. She circled around him. "Are you trying to be good, trying to redeem yourself? Did you really think you could cleanse all youy sins by helping the town out? No, Mick, a legacy is a legacy. You can do anything you want but people will latch onto one thing and one thing only from your past. People are often remembered for only one thing by the common, general public," she paused. "Granted, this is what historians, especially revisionists are for, but who here except me is trained to see such things?"

She took the plank gently out of his hand, dropping it onto the floor and took his hand, heading to where all the officials were trying to knock down the barricade.

"If you want to help the townspeople so badly, you need to remember what you were. Stop being so sweet and kind because that never works. The only thing that gets you remembered in this world is ruthlessness. Empires are carved out through ruthlessness, whether it be military or economic. Great men and women are remembered because they fought, not because they sat back and were nice. So, Mick, stop trying to impress anybody," Diana turned to the nearest law enforcement official and hovered in front of him. She put a hand through his chest and gripped his heart, focusing on holding it and squeezing it, stopping it dead. The man fell to the ground, dead. She withdrew her hadn and wiped it on a handkerchief, a purely aesthetic thing since there was no blood to speak of on her ghostly form.

"See? It's that easy. No matter what you do though, this town is doomed. It has already killed over half of its population and will likely kill more. It cannot survive. Or are you doing this for your pony girlfriend? Forget her, she is an idiot," Diana smiled. "Or I can take care of her for you. Love is such a distraction," she said as she casually murdered another one of the people who had come with Monica.

[icon]

Osi grinned when the owls came. He'd have to take extra care in thanking them later. He tried to get a scope of how things were looking around the town now; there were still some ghosts around, doing busywork (odd, there was Angelo carrying a beam- he didn't really strike Osi as the repentant type), as the bureaucrats continued to close in. There had to be some way to help... maybe instead of detaining the authorities, he should focus on direct aid to the townspeople instead. He phased down into Nets, No Waffles.

Glancing around the interior of the store, he could see all the townspeople; there was Blaze, doing something along the lines of paranoid accusation...again, and Julie with her instruments, and- well she was there with her doves, since Osi hadn't seen her about her house, and Tracy was in the back aisle, who was that with her-

Eyes narrowed under his spectral goggles. Jenkins. The old inspector, that incompetent, that inconsiderate, that... that layabout who ditched town! He dropped off, taking all his paperwork with none of his sense of obligation! And now he had the nerve to show up, all out of the blue! His inaction had led Osi to start investigating. His inaction had probably been what got Osi killed.

Huh, that was odd. He wasn't quite as inclined to refuse his death anymore. There was probably some textbook explanation for it, involving the words "metaphysical" and "self-acceptance" and other words like that. He shrugged; no time to ponder the machinations of the afterlife, he had an ex-detective to berate. He was going to have words with that man.

(Admittedly, the words would just about entirely be coming from Jenkins, and they would be along the lines of "And who the blasted blazes are you supposed to be? Chaetura, you could have told me that this mad town has ghosts now!" But that still counted as words, and they would still be had.)

Thoughts of aid temporarily set aside, Osi floated over to Miss Chaetura and Jenkins and glared at the latter. Yes, there would be words.

[Robyn]

Dove had a headache.

Trapped once more with the remaining citizens of Wafflenet, she couldn't help but think that if she'd stayed in her Puella Paloma Columbidae outfit, the cosplay itself would somehow infuse some of its energy into her actions out of the pure valiant obligation it bestowed on its wearer (after all, great cosplay always came with great responsibility), but with all the sleep she'd been losing lately, she doubted it would make much of a difference. It was miserable. The shop smelled like fishwater and petrichor, and everyone was arguing just as strongly as ever. Wolf howls echoed both indoors and out. Her temples throbbed.

"Dove?"

She looked up in surprise. It couldn't be!

"Brutus-senpai?" she gasped, eyes lighting up. But it was! He was looking a little worse for the wear, with a few scratches and dirt smudges on his formidably muscled arms, but Dove was just happy to see him alive. From the look on his face, he was thinking the exact same thing about her. She bounded up from her seat and crashed into him with a hug, which he accepted, swinging her up into his arms for good measure. She planted a tiny kiss on his forehead, giggling jovially.

"I'm so happy to see you!" Dove said, "I saw what happened to your house after the flood, and I hadn't seen you around...I was really worried!"

"Yeah, I actually got swept out in the swells for a while there," he explained, eliciting a cartoonish gasp from Dove, "but I managed to swim my way out of it! Just got a little scratched up; it's nothing. Insurance paid for the house, so I'm all good! Staying in the Motel Wafflenet until then."

"Oh, I'm so relieved," Dove said, hopping out of his arms.

"Well, I heard some interesting things about you too, sister. What's all this about going on a magical girl powertrip to save the town?"

"It almost worked, I swear. I was just thinking about how I could probably do it again and--"

"I wouldn't."

"UGH, Brucy-san. You're never any fun, you huge baka."

"Yeah, don't I know it."

Dove sat back down with Brutus taking a knee next to her. He surveyed the remaining townspeople, ever the calm spectator in a sea of rambunctious characters.

"So, this is it, huh?" he said, "I fight my way out of a flood only to come back and face several felony charges as an accomplice to the whole town. Think I'd be able to convince them I was just as much a hostage as that Bear guy?"

"I'm sure you could, aniki," Dove replied, trailing off as she watched her neighbors raise their voices and flail around.

If we even get out of here alive, she thought grimly.

[Draco]

Rocky floated around town a bit. He was on a lookout for other possible G-Hosts, and ones he spoke to all ready (or in the case of Osi, just left a note). Earlier he was following Julie around a bit after his talk with Dove. Now he just flew around. That's when he spotted some unknown people, and two ghosts. It seemed time to fly on down to see how they were doing.

Getting closer he could overhear what Diana was saying, especially about the town and Fluffle. He floats in behind her and places a arm around her shoulders, a rose in his hand held up to her face.

"That pony happens to be a close friend of mine. She's a pony of few words, but she gets her words through. Even if it does involve a little spit. And Mick here, is going to work with me once things settle down. You see, this town isn't dying like you say. In fact, it's more lively then ever, even if most of us are in fact dead."

He lets go of her and floats next to Mick.

"I'm disappointed in you Diana. I would have believed someone like you would have wished to document something like this, not destroy it. Even as you fight the town, the town is fighting back, they aren't quitting! I was a bit of a pig headed moron while I was alive, but now I changed! You see, people change, it might take death to make them, but they do. In your case, you may have changed for the worse."

He turns his head to Mick.

"And between you and me, red isn't her color. Maybe a nice purple?"

[Gelquie]

Julie was silent upon hearing of Osilon's death, only managing to look paler as her mouth opened slightly. She didn't have time to react further before Blaze continued.

“I’m surprised you didn’t know that. I mean, unless you’re pretending.... But you wouldn’t do that, would you? You’re the messenger of this town and yet you didn’t see that bird dude - uh, Osilon’s body or hear anything about him all day. How likely is that?”

For a moment, Julie just stood there, pondering how Blaze took her just asking about someone to her being being a target for accusation because of it. Before she could speak, Britknee's voice came from the other side of the store. "That is way unkewl, Blaze! You like, need to stop accusing people, gawsh! You come across as soooo paranoid!"

Julie opened her mouth to try to speak again when the wolf howled, so she stopped and clapped her hands over her ears. She kept them in place the entire time until Primrose stopped, at which Julie uncapped her ears and answered.

"Blaze, stop," she started. "I didn't know because I was in Waffles No Nets most of the time, and no one came by to tell me. And then when Dove screamed, I thought she was in trouble, so I rushed right over there, and then we came back in time for the execution. I didn't hear about it before now..."

She paused and frowned. How long had Osilon been dead before she'd even heard about it? Were the killings getting so rampant that it was now being considered normal? She was also getting more used to them than she liked, or than she liked to admit. It felt like ages since they first found the body of the travelling salesman in the street, and a lifetime since death in Wafflenet was unheard of. And she knew it would never be the same again. The dead would remain dead, even if they came back as ghosts, and even if they stopped the murderers before they killed everyone, no one would ever be the same. There wouldn't be much of a town left anyway.

Looking gloomy, Julie walked towards one of the walls, away from the woman. "Just leave me alone," she said to Blaze. "I need to think."

With that, she sat down against the wall, watching the other townspeople and the ghosts that were coming in as she began to strum her mandolin. She tried her best to keep to a steady rhythm that fit the random pounding of the door from the inspectors outside. There had to be at least one of them left inside who had ill intentions; who remained in the Mafia. At least if they found them before it was too late, they could save what was left. But if they didn't, how much longer would it take till she and everyone else was dead? Not that she liked being arrested by the inspectors either, but a part of her wondered whether it would be preferable to watching the rest of the town die.

Maybe it was a foregone conclusion. The banging on the door was getting louder and louder, and with even more force...

And then completely unexpectedly, a plank fell into the center of the room, startling Julie from her thoughts. She looked up towards the ceiling to find the source of the plank, but the roof of the building didn't look damaged, and there was no one up there. So where did it come from...?

Mr. Bell, who was looking around scavenging for any sort of edible food supplies to put in a communal pile, went over and picked up the plank before looking at the door. He nudged the plank into what he thought was a stable spot on the barricade before going to look around for more supplies.

The bangings on the door dimmed slightly, and Julie sighed and resumed playing her mandolin. Something probably did break that she just didn't see. That or a part of her didn't want to worry about the roof collapsing on them too.

[Mostly Harmless (flufflepuff)]

(This is probably my longest post yet OTL)

At least six unlucky authorities were on the backs of cows, scared to death, and were trying to hang on for dear life. Fluffle was enjoying this madness greatly. She directed the cows to a muddy farm on the south side of town instead of the north side, where she had been...

The desire to be mischievous evaporated immediately upon recalling her death. It was still tough to get used to.

Approximately twenty-eight of the dozens of reinforcements were bruised, battered, muddy, and dropped on the south side of Wafflenet. They stayed there, hoping to catch the nearest train back home. These cows were vicious! Surely the others who weren't taken by the cows could manage well enough on their own. After all they were trained to handle people as well as unusually behaving farm animals...hopefully.

Fluffle led the cows back to their home pasture, thanking them for her help. She passed the town square to see Mick, lifting a large, thick board of wood all by himself. Her essence between her front hooves fluttered. Mick was stronger than she'd thought. She'd wanted to speak with him...yes. She would. But what would she say? "I'm reasonably sure you didn't pull the trigger so let's let bygones be bygones?" Ugh. That sounded terrible even in her head. That wasn't entirely how she felt, to be honest. Yes, she was amazed at her newfound abilities, and yes, she discovered his...softer side, for lack of a better word, but oh, her bakery! It wouldn't be able to do its job of making people smile if it closed down permanently! It was because she was dead...no one wanted to buy from a dead person...pony.

She had to say something. Before, when she had tried to say Mick's name without freezing up, she'd barely succeeded in getting the "i" out. Judging from the look on his face, he may have thought she had said something like "Mafioso." That had to change.

Just as she was about to approach him, Diana swooped in, in all her crimson glory. As she flew towards Mick, the authorities groaned at once and bowed. Now there was a ghost that commanded respect! Fluffle was impressed.

She didn't want to get too involved, but she did follow Diana, quietly, and through the ground. Only the top part of her head stuck out, making it look like a bluish patch of grass was moving down the street.

Diana dropped the plank, and it fell with a resounding clatter on Fluffle's head. The pony did not squeal, for she felt nothing. She silently thanked anyone she could that her forehead didn't turn solid at that exact moment.

Fluffle heard words above the shouts and protests of the lawmen and Monica trying to break down the barricade.

"Great men and women are remembered because they fought, not because they sat back and were nice."

And Diana would be remembered for her pep talks, Fluffle thought, nodding in approval.

Diana did something strange then: she reached into...INTO someone, and made him fall asleep. The poor thing seemed to be having a nightmare, the way his face was petrified in fear and confusion, but there was nothing to be done about that. It seemed like an effective way of keeping them out, though!

Fluffle floated behind several people, taking great care not to be seen. She reached through one of the men's backs and touched his heart. Had Diana squeezed it? She decided to try the same...

IF YOU KILL SOMEONE LIKE THAT I WILL SHAVE YOU DOWN RIGHT THIS MINUTE.

Whoa! Fluffle leaped back. That voice meant business. Kill someone? Wasn't that man just asleep? She glanced at Diana. No, Diana wouldn't do that. The pretty ghost was nice to her, smothering her with a hug when she was lonely. Then again, the voice didn't lie. Not really.

Something dark and sticky was on Fluffle's hoof, where she had touched the man's heart. The man in front of her looked relieved and continued on his work in trying to break down Nets, No Waffles most...cheerfully.

Fluffle looked at her hoof. It was ugly, like the rest of her. She was poofy, ill-groomed, and not the sharpest knife in the drawer. She had even caused the bearer of the pink voice to question her own intelligence (sadly, this is true.) Fluffle wilted. Why had Mick given her a rose in the first place? It was probably to taunt her. There was no way he shared her inexplicable feelings towards him. He was human, and she was, of course, a pony. She had been a little bit clingy...

Fluffle blinked. This was an unusually strong bad feeling. She scraped her hoof along the ground and it all became clear. She was away from the other ghosts, which caused loneliness, which in turn caused "bad feelings". She never once thought that Diana could be responsible for such a th--Diana really did kill two or three people just now, didn't she? Fluffle looked at her hoof. Some of the dark, sticky stuff was still there. She needed to wipe it off casually somewhere. Once again, an urge, though faint, made Fluffle squeeze her eyes with need. She had to do something that wasn't exactly right. She had to cause the tiniest bit of trouble.

Either way, the pony needed an explanation. Jumping hard, she sank into the ground, once again "becoming" the moving blue patch of grass getting closer to Mick and Diana. Just as her eyes saw a sea of wood grain as she walked into the board, she heard something that made her ears twitch.

"No matter what you do though, this town is doomed. It has already killed over half of its population and will likely kill more. It cannot survive."

That voice didn't lie after all.

So the hug and quality time was all...a ruse? Fluffle's ears flattened as she leaped out of the earth, just in time to hear Diana say that she'd "take care" of Fluffle.

Fluffle jumped forward and wrapped a hoof around Diana's wrinkly little throat, just in case. Hugs had power, but this one had something extra. Fluffle wiped the rest of the bad feeling on Diana's back. She jumped back, ready to reach into her fluff to arm herself. Rocky flew in as well, defending both Fluffle and his town. Rocky and his roses. What was she going to do with him? Fluffle felt comforted that he was near but only a little bit.

Trembling ever so slightly, Fluffle realized that choosing that moment to speak at last would be most opportune. It would display awesome symbolism as well as impress the heck out of everyone around her. She was not an idiot. ((The bearer of the pink voice laughs at this.))

Fluffle cleared her throat. She was going to speak this time! ....Fluffle cleared her throat again. "P...." Please stop. "Pl...." Fluffle's essence tightened and twisted where her throat was. The words weren't coming. Was it because she was afraid of the revenant, or was it because Mick was around?! Either way, she was forced to resort to the old standby:

"Pbblbt."

Wait...

"Pbblbt"?! That was what she came up with?!

Fluffle face-hoofed--for more than one reason this time.

She retreated to Mick's side, her head lowered, her face a deep shade of azure, and her confidence...gone.

[Tiger]

He’d forgotten the first rule of looking for someone while not looking for them – don’t forget your target exists.

Diana’s tap on his shoulder made Mick’s skin crawl like ants had just run from her finger and onto his intangible skin. He spun around, already certain who it was, but he felt the absence of his stomach plummeting all the same. Meta’s typing reached a new fervor, then suddenly stopped.

"Hello, good to see you again. Are you trying to be good, trying to redeem yourself? Did you really think you could cleanse all your sins by helping the town out?”

“Mick, she’s a revenant – think zombie but with brains, ghost powers, and worse disease than a sewer rat.”

That didn’t help at all. The glowing red ghost continued to circle Mick, taunting him; he spun to face her in what might have looked like a comical dance – but it was really an effort to keep the board between them, for all the good a plank of wood was going to do. No, Mick, a legacy is a legacy. You can do anything you want but people will latch onto one thing and one thing only from your past. People are often remembered for only one thing by the common, general public. Granted, this is what historians, especially revisionists are for, but who here except me is trained to see such things?"

“I’m just trying to help them. Diana – we were wrong. These are innocent people!”

“Oh, yeah, that’ll hold sway with the sociopathic ghost of rabies past!”

Diana took the plank from him – Mick’s shaking hands gave a feeble but laughably useless attempt to hold onto it – and dragged him toward Nets, No Waffles. Mick’s heart should have lurched in his chest – Diana shouldn’t be anywhere near anyone, living or dead.

"If you want to help the townspeople so badly, you need to remember what you were. Stop being so sweet and kind because that never works. The only thing that gets you remembered in this world is ruthlessness. Empires are carved out through ruthlessness, whether it be military or economic. Great men and women are remembered because they fought, not because they sat back and were nice. So, Mick, stop trying to impress anybody,"

“This isn’t about me!” Mick protested. “This is about them!”

“It’s not about you, eh?” Metastophelous asked quietly. “Isn’t that the point of purgatory? Your redemption?”

Wha – he didn’t have time for this. Diana had to be – had to be…

Mick had seen more death more personally than most people had over considerably longer lives. Mick had probably been responsible for some of those deaths, even if his hazy memories couldn’t prove it yet. He had seen shootings and stabbings and poisoning – but Diana reached into a man’s chest and squeezed his heart to pulp. Mick wanted to throw up – Mick wanted to tear Diana apart – he wanted to get away from the blood and the madness –

“Diana! Stop – please!”

Meta’s voice seared through the earpiece, high and mocking – “’Oh, no, Diana, please, stop!’ Are you serious, Angelo? You’re pathetic – why don’t you do something for a change, instead of sitting there whining like a puppy that’s got its tail stepped on?”

"See? It's that easy. No matter what you do though, this town is doomed. It has already killed over half of its population and will likely kill more. It cannot survive. Or are you doing this for your pony girlfriend? Forget her, she is an idiot. Or I can take care of her for you. Love is such a distraction.”

Mick was breathing heavily out of instinct, finally stressed enough that his emotions trumped his ghostly non-needs. “Leave Fluffle out of this!”

And quite suddenly, the pony appeared, wrapping Diana in a hug and then springing back. P- Pl....Pbblbt." With a facepalm – hoof – Fluffle retreated to Mick’s side.

Mick wanted to say something, but Metastophelous’s voice, every syllable gnarled with hate and pure disgust, coiled from the earpiece. “So now you want to defend the pony? Now that it’s your afterlife on the line, you grow a spine! How dare you think you deserve her affections? How dare you!”

Mick was dimly aware that Alex had shown up, too, but he felt like someone was grabbing his face and forcing him to stare at the demon on the other end of his purgatory hotline. “Selfish, cowardly, too stupid to think of a way out – you’re probably the worst of them, even over the revenant. At least a wolf doesn’t know any better than to kill – you knew you were wrong – you were just too busy cowering to do anything about it!” Metastophelous chuckled, a sound that made Mick picture a monster working flesh out of its teeth with a splinter of bone. “And after everything you did, you thought you deserved purgatory! You didn’t even question it! And as soon as you got here, what’d you do, boy? You started making friends!”

Mick shook. The demon’s voice rose to a swollen, thunderous snarl; “You could have stopped them from hanging Rocky with just a few words – but you didn’t! You could have saved Fluffle, but no, you went tromping into a field with your cohorts and shot her dead! All for threatening your criminal empire – and you give her a rose like you can make up for it! So go on, murderer, coward, mafia – RUN. ROLL OVER. COWER. LIKE YOU ALWAYS-”

Mick lunged at the revenant.

Pain rushed like a rain of hot needles all down his nonexistent veins and his skin crawled as he passed through the red ghost. His earpiece crackled with static and shot off sparks – Meta’s voice vanished, replaced with a scratching warbling sound like torque and twisted sirens. He twisted back around to face Diana, his tail jerky and spasming like it was trying to mimic the shape of lightning bolts – god the contact burned – it wasn’t purgatory without torture…

He glanced over his shoulder – Nets, No Waffles and the lawmen were behind him. Mick could only hope that Fluffle and Alex would get out of here before Diana turned her cold torments upon them.

“Diana!” he said through gritted teeth, squaring his shoulders “Leave. Them. Alone!”